One Spark
by noxjay
Summary: Ginny has been called many things in her life, but stubborn is probably number one on that list. She doesn't intend to let the threat of curfew or the Carrows stop her when she sets her mind to something. After all, right behind 'stubborn' is 'loyal'. Complete one shot.


_Authors Note: This was written for the Wordsmiths and Betas Facebook group's Rare Pairs One-Shot contest. It one Most Convincing Ship and was runner up for Most True to Canon and Most Complete One Shot. It is my first ever completed fic, so yay! I hope you all enjoy it. I love Ginny as a character and feel there is so much more to explore with her._

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The halls are dark and damp, the only source of light coming from the moon that filters through the windows. She doesn't dare use her wand, not when there are professors around every corner. There always are these days. And if she happened to run into Snape…well, she doesn't want to even think about that.

She shouldn't be out here, she knows that. It is dangerous and foolish and quiet possibly one of the more idiotic ideas she has ever had. She should be tucked safe and sound in the Room of Requirements. But the problem with that idea is her friends. They wouldn't let her leave, at least not by herself. And while their intentions were good, she would never risk someone else getting hurt because of her.

No. This was something she had to do alone. He would hate it if she got caught, that was a given. But if someone else also suffered an Unforgivable on his account? He would hate that even more.

So she had hid in an unused classroom after dinner, waited there well past midnight. Waited until she was sure the Carrows would be gone. And only then did she tiptoe out, wrapping her cloak around her thin body, smaller than it should be. But how could she think about eating in times like these? When they were out there - her brother, friend, the boy she loved. Risking their life everyday. Food seemed insignificant in comparison.

Neville had tried to help, and Luna before she disappeared after holidays. He would slip her bits of pumpkin cake, swiped from the kitchens, and plead with her to eat something. She would nibble the edges after insisting he share half of it. She knew he only humored her because of that worry hidden in his eyes, the worry that never fully went away. It was mirrored in her own brown ones, she knew it was. Dark with the constant worry that came with this life. Fear for her friends, her family, everyone left at Hogwarts - a number that was vastly dwindling with each passing day.

More and more forced to go into hiding. The Carrows subjecting everyone to their whims, no one was safe except for the Slytherins. And even her, a Pureblood labeled a blood traitor, had to face their detentions. Which was why she was sneaking around the corridors this late, despite the danger that came with it.

It sure was a good thing Ginny Weasley never ran from her fears. Otherwise she might be bolting off at every odd sound the old castle made, what paintings remained shifting in their portraits as the wind seemed to howl through the chilled hallway. Heading back certainly would be the more intelligent thing to do, with the way things were these days. But Neville didn't call her stubborn for no reason. If he could see her now, she knew exactly what he would say. But he wasn't here. And that was the whole point of this late night expedition, the reason she was risking being caught out so late.

It didn't take her long to find the classroom the Carrow's used for their nightly "detentions". She knew this castle better than most. Between the twins and Harry, she certainly knew her way around. Their combined information leading her past the trick stairwell on the second floor, giving a wide berth to the haunted suit of armor, and darting out of sight at the sound of footsteps.

She hid in the shadows for a moment, those dark eyes scanning the hallway just in case. It was quiet, the door to the room left ajar. Their arrogance would also be their downfall, there wasn't even a curse left on it. So sure of their ability to strike fear into the hearts of anyone who would dare come near. Everyone except for her.

She moves forward, wand hand casting a few silent charms to make sure it is safe. But the area seems deserted, and she presses onward. Wand gripped tightly in hand, not letting her arm relax for even a moment. She slips silently into the room, shutting the door just as quietly behind her. Even without light she knows where she is going, drawn to the back of the room like a moth to flame. Eyes blazing with determination. She too had suffered detention in this very room.

Even so, what awaits her at the far wall is not what she had been expecting. Black cords wrap around his ankles, up his arms, hanging off his body that quivers against them. They are loose, the magic having already gone. Confirming that she did indeed just miss them, but that isn't what she is thinking about. Her eyes are drawn to him, his chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. His body convulsing with the familiar twitches from one too many Cruciatus curses. Sweat sticks to his forehead, hair plastered against the side of his face. Muscles tense, as if every part of him is clenching in fear. And his eyes, shut tightly as if to block out the memory of what happened in this room.

Before she knows what she is doing, she is there. Kneeling down in front of him, hands reaching out only to pause. Hovering in midair, unsure of themselves. Then, ever so softly, she brings one to his face, brushing her cool fingertips against his forehead.

"Neville…"

He flinches. She withdrawals her hand as if it had been burned instead. But he doesn't notice, his eyes wide but unfocused as they glance wildly around the room. Darting first to the door, then down each row of desks before finally landing on her. Relief floods his features only to be replaced to something akin to anger. She frowns.

"Ginny! You shouldn't be here." His voice is horse, as if he has been screaming all night. And her heart cracks at that thought, something coming loose there in her chest.

"When a girl sneaks out to see you in the middle of the night, I'm pretty sure 'you shouldn't be here' is the last thing you should say." The corner of her lips twitch up in a teasing smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes. Not with him like this, broken and still worried about her. "For future reference."

"Ginny," And his voice is softer this time, even as his body trembles from that curse.

But before he can go on, she is reaching for him again. A small wave of her wand, banishing the cords away. They leave behind no trace, except for the tainted red that scars his skin, matching the shade of her hair. Gently her fingers dance across his wrist. He flinches again, but doesn't pull away. She can feel her eyes becoming glossy, but she doesn't cry. It has been a long time since she allowed herself that luxury. "I wasn't going to leave you here."

"I know. But you still shouldn't have come."

Her heart breaks again. And she wonders how much more it can take, how many hits and pulls before it unravels completely, leaving her chest hollow with only the sting as a reminder. She keeps her gaze on his wrist, slender fingers still tracing across the indent. "How long ago did they leave?"

"I don't know." Then he is moving to sit up, and her hands are reaching for him. Helping him as best as she can manage, even as they threaten to shake as badly as he is. A groan, a sharp intake of breath, but somehow they manage. And she is there, clutching his side with a sudden need to be close to him. Burying her head into his shoulder to stop the sting in her eyes. His hands, so calloused and rough, brush her hair away. Tender in a way only years of working with vicious and unstable plants can teach you to be.

They don't say anything for a long time. Him, leaning against the wall, his hands rubbing idly down her back. And Ginny, leaning into him, feeling every bit selfish. But she needs that closeness, she needs that gentle touch and the small reminder that even now, in this war, they have each other. And maybe he needs it too.

Finally, she shifts. Moving back until she can reach into the pocket of her robe, pulling out a small vial of amber colored liquid. "I brought you something. I should have given you this first…"

He would ask how she got it, but they both know exactly how. Sneaking into Snape's private stores is not something she should be doing, but he doesn't comment on it. Just gives her a look, not one of anger or disappointment, just concern. Glancing over her as if to reassure himself she is fine. He takes it, after a moment. But his hands tremble so much she has to uncap it for him and help him drink it down. She notices almost right away how his tremors seems to fade, and for that she is thankful.

"We should get back, can you walk?"

He nods, but even so she makes no move to leave and neither does he. Instead she lets her head fall back against him, exhaustion taking hold as she leans into the crook of that arm, feeling it wrap firmly around her. Safe. That is the only word to explain how she feels, and that in itself is bizarre. But she closes her eyes, and for a moment it is easy to pretend that this isn't happening. That they are somewhere far away, no Hogwarts, no war, no Carrow siblings to harm them. There is just them.

His thoughts seem to be similar, judging from the way his hold tightens just a bit. And how he dips his lips down hesitantly, planting a tender kiss on her head. Soft. Gentle. Everything their world is not. She sighs into him, her body relaxing even as her mind protests. But it is easy to do here, around him. Easy to forget their troubles, even for just a moment. But soon, even that too fades. And she is left with a worry she can't explain.

"It's getting worse, isn't it?" She hates how her voice wavers at that, just the smallest bit, but it is there. She presses on. "Don't lie to me, Neville. I know how you take the blame for others, for me. I know half of these detentions you serve should be mine. You have to stop doing that, you can't keep-"

"Shh, Gin." He interrupts her, a firmness in his voice that is new, startling. She twists in his arms until she can see him, but his face gives nothing away. His fingers absently rub against her arm, tracing small circles that are meant to be comforting, but still manage to come out more distracting. "You know I won't stop. Just like I know you won't stop either. We do what we have to. And for every curse directed at me, it means one less you have to take. I will never apologize for that."

"I don't need you to protect me."

"I know that. You are one of the strongest witches I have ever met. You are talented and strong and so brave Ginny. You are stubborn and reckless beyond belief, but you have a spirit in you. You fight for what you know is right. And even now, you are the first to jump in when someone needs help. You came out here to help me, in the middle of the night because it is who you are. You could have been caught, and you know better than most what would have happened. Lifting that potion from Snape…you don't care what happens to you, as long as you are protecting us. I've seen you with those first years, you look after them. You fight when you shouldn't have to, just so someone else doesn't need to. Ginny…can't you see? I don't want them to put that fire out. So if I have to take a few extra detentions so you can stay strong, then I will. I will take them a hundred times over so you never lose that spark."

She stares at him. For one, long moment, neither of them say anything. Vaguely aware that his hand has stilled against her arm, that a new emotion creeps into his eyes, and it is worry of a completely different kind. But she can't see that right now, not with the way her heart is racing in her chest.

With no warning she presses forward, her lips crashing against his with a need, a craving she can't explain. She kisses him with a passion that stems from the root of what is left of her heart. Her soul. Her entire being. And for a terrifying moment he does nothing, completely frozen under her lips. But then his hands are wrapping her up, holding her close, kissing her just as passionately.

She loves Harry, she will always love Harry. But this is different. This is something she can never explain, it is too complicated. As strong as she is, she needs someone. And Neville is comforting. He is safe and smells like herbs, and this might not be love, but it is what they need.


End file.
